Toucan Sam 5

Author's Note: die

Toucan Sam woke up. "Fucking great." He thought. His mom was coming over to visit today. When she is on Red Bull, she's an absolute rude nasty monster that acts like a dictator and throws things around more violently than usual — BUT she is 20 times worse when she drinks beer after drinking Red Bull, constantly screeching and being violent and stating such nasty mean things to him. He has learned to hide his energy drinks when she visits.

He wished she would just… you know… kick the bucket already. He realized he changed so much over the years. He used to avoid hatred and wishing the end upon others, but he's so tired of being mistreated and dictated by an obnoxious narcissistic nasty person that was supposed to care about him. He liked to pretend that he was a mama's boy, but that was a foolish stupid fantasy world he lived in where he liked thinking he and his mom had a wonderful relationship, but no. It was all fucking false and a lie. He was finally shattered and deeply broken after so long. He did his best to hold on, but he was just dead inside now.

A knock came on the door. "God, please don't be her." He groaned as he peeked out the window. No one was there.

"Oh god, is this another fucking paranormal bullshit event again?" He used to obsess over that but nowadays if something paranormal happens, he ignores it because he wants nothing to do with that bullshit anymore. "God, fucking aliens or secret government shit. If you are hearing this, I fucking saw nothing. Leave me alone." He went back to sitting in front of the television. "Ugh, I'm so fucking tired."

He got a text from his mom. "SAmn CaN"T MkE IT TryY nOTHER DAy" and included a weird emoji. She didn't know how to spell on a phone.

Toucan Sam sighed in relief. He really didn't want to deal with her crap on his day off. He walked over to the fridge and grabbed a cold beer. "Crap." He muttered as he glanced over the contents of the fridge. He was running out of beer. He had at least two more. He'll save going out to get more for tomorrow because he didn't want to go out this day. "Fuck it. I have enough for today."

He went back to the television to resume watching whatever was on while drinking beer. He reflected upon his mom. He had given her his iPhone 6 back in 2019 because he was sick of her complaining of how she hated technology and was sick of how his dad treated her like shit… always giving her the cheapest shittest phones. Toucan Sam wanted her to have the best and to enjoy her phone. She does nowadays, constantly obsessing over the cameras that she and his dad placed all around their house. Unfortunately, she still does complain about technology and she's constantly lured in by those stupid YouTube videos trying to sell expensive as fuck weight loss formulas to idiots that believe it to be true. His mom thinks he's made of money when he's broke as fuck.

"God, boomers." He sighed despite him being an old AF millennial.

The next day he struggled to wake up. He overdid it again. "God, fuck this hangover." He took several pills of Bayer Back and Bone and then placed on his work vest. "Fuck everything. Fuck that tiger too." He took out an MP3 player and played "Curses" by the Crane Wives. It was currently his favorite song. "Ha, yeah. Ashes ashes, dust to dust, the devil's after both of us" he could relate with the song. He constantly felt like the devil was chasing after him. "WON'T YOU STAY WITH MEEEE, MY DARLING?" He sang. "Tell me I AM good enough, you fucking asshole. Oh, lay my curses out to rest, make a mercy out of me." He began to cry a little feeling pain in his heart again.

A knock came at his door. He quickly went quiet, his heart racing. "Oh shit. Who the fuck is that?!" He cautiously peeked out to see it was the FedEx deliveryman. "Oh thank god." He feared lawyers, lawsuits, cops, ex's after he was traumatized several times. Knocks upon his door were never happy. Always scary awful experiences. He got sued before. That was a terrifying experience. Years back when he lived with his parents, he had an ex stalk and find out where he lived and came punching at his door - literally fucking punching hard and kicking. The ex manipulated his parents and got them to side with the ex. All so traumatizing. He stopped giving out his addresses to people because of all this hell.

He was terrified to death of people both real life and online.

Sam waited until the FedEx driver left and then slowly opened the door. He didn't recall ordering anything. "God, damn it. Did I buy something while drunk? I'm a fucking tight budget here. I will need to return this. Fuck my life. That means having to get on the bus and going all the fuck way to the post office." He quickly checked his Amazon and eBay orders to see he hasn't ordered anything. "Huh… nothing?"

Outside the door was a small box. He quickly brought it in and then stared at it for a while before opening it. Inside was a mug that read "Pot Head." It caused him to chuckle. "Ha ha, wow. Who sent me this? That was nice of them." He hadn't smiled in a while. "Well I have a mug now.

He sat on the floor smiling at the mug. He had an hour before having to go to work. It was nice to just sit there quietly. Someone actually thought of him. Maybe the world isn't all so bad?

He went to go look outside the window. It was raining. "Aw crap." He hated having to walk through the rain. It would frizz up his feathers and he wouldn't be able to listen to his MP3 player otherwise it will get damaged by water and humidity. He hated not being able to drive. He sighed and grabbed his umbrella. He had to get a windproof one because his other ones would break and he'd get soaking wet and it was a huge NO-NO for his workplace environment. He hated the word "no-no", reminded him of this asshole he spoke to online years ago that kicked him out of a chatroom for not talking. What a dick.

Grabbing his umbrella, he stepped outside and went to work.